Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1887-01-05
1alts aud Sketehes.
LOST IN THE FIRE.
CONTINUED from yesterday

slipped, but his strong arm caught her
and at last. after hours. as it seemed to
! to her. they reached the other side. and
he lifted her down.
INV boy," he said, "vou look delicate
to be alone in this mad crowd; won't you
come with me?"
Oh, how Grace longed TO dc so, but fear
restrained her. He thought she was
boy, and she could not explain, because
it might endanger the precious package
"Oh, nor she said, hastily. II must
find papa, but thank you more that can
say for helping me over that bridge,
shuddering as she spoke.
yes. little man." said her friend,
YOU'D hardly have come over alive If
hadn't seen you"
"Papall thank you. too" began Grace.
and then fearing that be or some one
would suspect she had valuables. she
turned hastily and ran down side street.
But where should she go? That was
the west side and free from fire, but she
had never been there. knew no one. and
the streets we're full of flying people.
She could only 60 with them for they all
seemed going one way.
So they were, and after long walk, in
which she many times nearly fell with
fatigue. she reached the end of her jour
new. the place where half city was col
lected in misery and despair. It was
wide, bare prairie, with hundreds--yes,
thousands of people, some with house
hold of furniture and goods, some with
nothing in the world but their night
clothes. camped down to wait for-they
knew rot what.
That scene cannot be described. Grace
sank exhausted on the ground. and very
likely would never have arisen, for she
was wet and cold, tired and hungry. But
although everything in lite seemed gone,
kind hearts were not burned up, and near
her happened to be a motherly German
woman. who had saved all the furniture OF
her little house by means of her
husbands express wagon, and was now
guarding it and her three children.
while her husband was making 500 a
load with the same wagon, drawing rich
mems treasures to a place of safety.
The good Frau had already made fire
in her little stove and heated some water
preparatory to cooking supper, and seeing
Grace apparently dying, hurried about
and made her cup of good strong coffee.
She could not speak a word of English,
but she doubtless saved Grace's life.
After drinking this cupful, which gave
her new strength, the poor child buried
her face in her hands and burst into un-
controllable tears, with sobs and means
that touched the warm hearted woman
She tried to question her; she made her
come to Der fire; she at last forced her
t, lie down, wrapped in one of her own
coarse blankets.
There on that desolate prairie, with
rain falling. groans and cries OF pain and
distress around her. aching in every bone
of her body. poor Grace Lord passed that
awful night.
A little sleep did wonders to refresh
her. and with the light of morning came
hope, tn, ugh there seemed little to build
it upon. Thousands were rousing to a
fresh sense of their own desolation,
families mourning the loss of one of their
number who had died during the right,
many grieving for children separated in
the crowds. all remembering homes, COM
forts, blessings forever lost
With dawn, wagons from the unburned
part of The city began to arrive, sent by
kind hearts which remembered the host
of homeless fellow creatures, and filled
with TODD. Bread. meat and coffee were
distributed, and Grace-thanks to her
friend the German woman-received a
large roll.
But new uneasiness, or rather the old
one. began to creep over her; fears that
this woman might try to detain her. might
suspect the treasure she bore. Although
with many pangs at the apparent thankleS-
ness OF The act, she took occasion, while her
friend was absent, to slip away and turn
once more towards town. She had heard
that all the churches and school houses
were thrown open to the homeless. and
she must start on her search for papa and
mama. First, however, she stole softly
around the groups on the prairie, fearing,
yet almost hoping to find them there.
Misery. sickness, death, insanity
troubles of all sorts she saw, but not a
more she started on the road to What was
left OF the city,
| All that day long she walked, weary,
foot-sore. inquiring her way to the
churches and school houses, and going
through every one that she found.
I'm looking for papa. who's sick,
opened all doors to her. Eagerly, almost
wildly. as the hours went by. she peered
into the faces of the crowd. She ate some
thing-she knew not what; somebody
made her sit down and drink; somebody
said kind words in her ear; somebody
took off her soaked and ruined shoes, anC
put on pair that were dry. though coarse
somebody tried to take off her Jacket tt
dry it. for it was soak jng from last night.
rain But fear of discovery aroused her
She tore away with a cry. and ran man,
blocks before she dared to look around t
see if she was pursued.
just AS it began to grow dark. Grace
who had all dav heard dreadful tales o
suffering and death. of people burned up
and people dying of exposure-was set
Ting into the belief that she no longer ha,
father or mother. that she should all he
life be a tramp and beggsr. and that al
her sufferings had not after all saved he
dear papa. for whose sake she had bravet
everything. just at this lowest point o
courage. her eyes fell upon familis
face coming out of church.
30 Maggie" she cried with her hear
on her lips, where's nv papa?'
"An' who are We thin p asked the tidl
Irish girl. 81 don't know We. boy"
80, Maggie I'm Grace I'm not boy
have on Bert's clothes" Here she whis
pered oil went to get something
for papa"
-